The library, usually a sanctuary of knowledge and tranquility, felt suffocatingly silent, as if it were a deserted graveyard echoing memories of forgotten voices. Damon had meticulously ensured that the room was stripped of any witnesses, leaving only a tense quartet: himself, Elias, Rico, and a distraught Isla, whose tear-stained cheeks glimmered in the dim light. Mara lingered in the doorway, a reluctant observer, her heartbeat synchronizing with the heavy atmosphere of impending ...